The Princess and The Pirate
by we-should-buckle-some-swash
Summary: Captain Swan - Once upon a time, there was a princess and a pirate... A collection of one shots and drabbles about Swan and her Captain. Almost all stories will be stand alone. Rated M for later chapters. Feel free to leave prompts as a review or send me a PM.
1. Always Enough

**Spoilers ahead if you're not caught up with the show!**

**Prompts and reviews are always welcomed and encouraged! :)**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing related to Once Upon a Time (except my obsession)!

* * *

At first when Gold had shown her the grainy video, Emma had brushed it off. The manipulative bastard would say anything to try and worm himself out of his magical prison deep beneath the library. True, that made it no less horrible, like the attack on the fairies, but really, it had been Gold who had killed those people. Henry's grandfather or not, he was a monster who prayed on the vulnerabilities of others and used them to his own end. What Hook had done was horrible, but out of his control. _And more importantly, was behind them_. Killian's heart was safely back in his chest. The Snow Queen, Rumplestilskin, they were all defeated, their plans foiled. Once again, the heroes had defeated the villains. Good triumphed over evil. Everything was okay. Then why didn't she feel like anything was alright? _And that it might never be alright again._

The wind brushed her hair along her face and she tucked the errant strands behind her ears. The noise of the raucous gathering at Granny's drifted out onto the patio. _Another curse broken, another party._ This one was especially rowdy, perhaps since they were celebrating the defeat of two villains instead of one. He sat across from her, his confession, freely given, confirming the Dark Old had been telling the truth, was fresh on his lips. His jaw tightly clenched as he awaited her response. _He had promised never to lie to her_, Emma thought. She took a swig from the glass in front of her, the alcohol burning her throat. She knew she would never be able to drink rum again without thinking of him.

"Swan," Killian said. His chiselled features illuminated by the hanging lights. "Please love, say something. Anything."

Emma took a shaky breath. She'd almost lost him today. Gold had held Killian's heart in his hand, but it had felt like he had hers. She remembered every ounce of hurt, every gasping breath Killian had taken. She couldn't remember the last time she was so scared. But he was fine, better than fine. He was whole. Wasn't this the part in the story where they had sweaty _I thought I lost you sex_? Instead he'd dropped this bomb on her. She stared at him, her thoughts a jumble. _God, she probably was going to have to arrest him._

Emma closed her eyes and fought the urge to run. Just to get up and walk away from him, from magic, from everything. Against her will, her thoughts drifted back to the last time she'd sat on this patio with Killian. How they'd shared that kiss that had started, _really started,_ everything between them. How starkly his admission he'd given then contrasted with his now. _That he'd killed a man simply because Gold told him to, his heart still his own. _

"I'm not sure what to say," Emma said, avoiding his gaze. She was afraid if she looked at him, if saw the pain in his eyes that she heard in his voice, she would break. "Except, I, I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like you needed to change anything," She glanced quickly at his hook. "That you felt like you had to go to _him_."

"Gods, Swan," He reached across the table and captured her hand in his. He expected her pull away, but when she didn't he felt a tiny spark of hope. _This wouldn't break them. _"You never did anything, I just," He closed his eyes, his inability to find words an unfamiliar affliction. "I just wanted to be enough for you. I wanted to be the man you saw I could be."

"You were always enough, Killian," Emma said, tears brimming behind her eyes.

Killian felt his heart plummet in his chest. _Were always enough. Past tense. _The earlier spark of hope wavered slightly. He moistened his lips and pulled his chair closer to hers. The metal of the chair scraping along the patio. "Emma, please," He whispered, his voice dripping with desperation. "Tell me what to do, tell me how to fix this. I'll do anything, love."

"There nothing, you can't just," She swallowed thickly and finally met his eyes. His chest tightened as he saw the hurt in her eyes. _That he had put there. _"I'm not sure I can get past this," Emma said quietly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Hook's face fell. He felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. He couldn't lose her. _Not like this._ He started to speak, to plead with her, but she covered his mouth with her fingers, silencing him. "But I want to Killian. I just, I just need some time, to process this."

He nodded and squeezed her hand gently before she pulled it back to her lap. She crossed her arms over her chest, fighting back a shiver. She wasn't sure if it was from the the chill in the air or the familiar feeling of loss building in her stomach. She knew that there was nothing left to say, they'd each said their piece, but she was still unwilling to leave. So they sat together, enveloped in a comfortable silence for what felt like hours. Finally, she shook to head to clear it. She needed some time to think. Alone_. _She rose from the table slowly, her back stiff from the cold. She tried to shoot him a reassuring smile but felt it falter and not quite reach her eyes.

"Emma, I'll be anything you want me to be," Killian said suddenly, his admission surprising them both. He rose to his feet beside her. His eyes searched hers desperately. "I just can't lose you." A lone tear slid down Emma's cheek. Killian reached up and brushed it away with his thumb. His hand lingered against her cheek. She closed her eyes at his touch and rested her hand over his. He slowly caressed her face, his palm warm against her wind nipped cheek. She pulled his hand to her lips and gently kissed his palm. She smiled, more sincerely, as she released his hand and it dropped back to his side.

"We'll talk soon okay," She said, her voice wavering as she fought to maintain control.

"Then why do I bloody feel like this is the last time I'll see you?" When she didn't answer, he pulled her into his arms roughly. Emma buried her head in the crook of his neck. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, so uniquely him. She slid her hands under his coat and felt his toned back beneath his shirt. Choking back a sob, pulled herself closer to him. For a moment, she wished that he never told her the truth. That she could blame Gold instead of him. He held her more tightly, as if he could read her thoughts. He kissed the top of her head softly.

"We'll figure it out Swan," He said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Stop it Hook," Emma spat, pushing against his chest, her hurt quickly morphing into anger. She felt him stiffen with her use of his monicker. He tightened his arms around her and refused to let her slip out of his grasp.

"Emma," He murmured against her skin. "Please, don't push me away-"

"Are you kidding me?" She asked incredulously. She roughly twisted away from him, steam coming out of her ears. Sensing her mood, Killian stopped fighting her and let her pull away. "Do you understand the position I am in? The position _you put me in_? I vouched for you. Told everyone you've changed and now you _killed someone_, an old, defenceless man, Hook."

"I know, Swan," Killian said quietly. He looked completely wrecked, his face twisted in pain. She knew her words had hurt him. Unable to maintain her composure, hot tears fell freely from her eyes. He reached for her and gently trailed his thumb over the pulse point at her wrist. "If you'll let me I'll spend everyday of the rest of my worthless life making it up to you-"

"God, stop. Just stop," She sobbed. He ignored her and moved to pull her back into his arms, but she pushed against his chest roughly and he staggered back a step. "The worst part about all of this is that I love you," She sobbed.

"Emma," He said, taken aback, a smile forming on his lips before he could stop it. _Gods, did she just say she loved him? _He felt his chest swell with warmth at the mere thought. He cupped her chin in his hand and pulled her face to meet his gaze. "That's bloody brilliant-"

"No, it's not," She said meeting his eyes fiercely. "Because once again, I've proven that I'm toxic. That-"

The door to Granny's opened and drunken party goers stumbled onto the street, interrupting her. Emma pulled away from Killian suddenly and wiped her tears on the sleeve of her jacket. "I gotta go," She said, sniffling, over her shoulder. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, and she didn't want to have to explain anything to anyone, _especially her parents_, until she did. Emma cast her eyes on the ground and walked away from him, her boots crunching against the snow. She'd expected Killian to chase after her, like her always did. She felt fresh tears pooling as he let her walk away, a dull numbness settling over her bones.

* * *

Killian sat on his bed at Granny's, his empty flask at his feet, an almost empty bottle of rum in his hand. The room was dark, sounds of a few, particularly dedicated celebrators drifted under his door. He took a long swig directly from the bottle as the room swam before him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this drunk. He hadn't felt the need to drink more than a glass or two since, _since the year he'd spent in the Enchanted Forrest, without her. _The thought did nothing to comfort him. He choked down another gulp of rum, sighing as the bottle ran empty. He dropped it onto the ground and heard it roll along the floor.

He flopped onto the bed, still fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling. He'd been nothing but anger and vengeance before he'd met her. She'd reminded him of the man he used to be, _the honourable man he was capable of being. _With her, he felt like he had finally come alive. She was his light after centuries of darkness. He scrunched his eyes closed tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure he could survive losing her. _The villain in him, perhaps. _But the man he'd become? He doubted it. Cursing himself for the thousandth time since he'd walked into the Crocodile's shop, he reached for his flask in the dark. Finding it empty, he swore loudly and hurled it against the wall.

"Bugger off," He slurred without opening his eyes as someone loudly banged on his door. "Or I'll bloody give you something to complain about." The nose stopped, _thankfully_. Why his neighbours cared about his banging when the partygoers at Granny's were still carrying on was beyond him. The room swayed around him and he sighed, the motion reminding him of his days on the Jolly. He prayed sleep would claim him, soon, so he could stop thinking about _her. _That he could have a break from dwelling on the guilt that he'd _ruined them _with his thoughtless actions.

His mind more than a little fuzzy from the rum, he drifted off to sleep. Minutes or hours later, he couldn't be sure, he groaned as he heard something straightening up his room, empty bottles banging together. That blasted Granny couldn't give him twenty minutes of solitude. Gritting his teeth, he sat up, his curses lost on his lips as the room spun wildly around him. He blinked repeatedly, thinking he had to be hallucinating as he saw not Granny, but Emma. She stood like a vision before him. The sun poured in through the window, dancing across her features.

"I need to talk to you," Emma said, from the foot of his bed. She rested her hand against her hip and rolled her eyes as he remained speechless, his eyes boring into her. "You're still drunk," She said, more of a statement than a question.

"Swan," He said as he pulled his hand through his hair, trying to tame his dishevelled appearance. "I'm not drunk," He said, wincing. "A little worse for wear this morning, but sober love." He felt like he'd eaten a pound of sand and his tongue felt too large for his mouth. She soundlessly handed him a glass of water and he smiled at her gratefully. Their fingers brushed as he took the glass. He eyed Emma closely, wondering if she felt the same jolt of energy that he did from their touch. He drained the glass quickly.

"I came by last night, but you weren't in any shape to entertain," She said simply. He winced again as the previous evening came rushing back to him. He set the now empty glass down on the night table, never taking his eyes off of her. With a sigh, Emma flopped onto the bed beside him and ran her hands through her hair, impossibly tangled from the wind and a restless night. Her coat and boots were near the door. Her clothes were rumpled and looked slept in. _How long had she been here? Had she forgiven him? Did she still love him? Had she ever?_

"How did you get in?" Killian asked, groaning inwardly. Out of every question he had, he cared about that answer the least. Although he supposed it was a safe question.

"It's all about the tumblers," Emma murmured with a smirk as she played with a loose thread on the blanket.

"I've always said you'd make a bloody brilliant pirate, Swan," He said with a genuine smile. Holding his breath, he reached towards her and stilled her hand with his own. His heart skipped a beat, when she smiled back and laced her fingers with his. Even their hands fit together so well, like two broken pieces of a whole coming together.

"I'm sorry Killian," Emma said, her eyes searching his face. "For everything last night. I, I was hurt and angry and I'm sorry."

"Gods, Emma," He said, trailing his thumb over the back of her hand. "Not as sorry as I, for everything, I assure you."

"I know," She said, still smiling.

They sat quietly for a moment, carefully taking the other in. Killian wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go. Just as he moved to wrap his arms around her, his stomach pitched, last night's rum suddenly not sitting well.

"I very much want to continue this conversation, love," He said with as much swagger as he could muster. "Just give me a moment to make myself more presentable?" He asked motioning to the bathroom door.

"Sure," Emma said with a small chuckle. She gave his hand a soft squeeze. "Just hurry back, okay."

"Aye, love," He said already moving to the bathroom. "I'd be a fool to keep you waiting."

He shut the washroom door and turned on the tap. There were some strange things about this world of Emma's, but running water was absolutely marvellous. He splashed cold water on his face, trying in vain to chase his hangover away. Shutting it off, he eyed himself in the mirror and scowled, barely recognizing his reflection. He looked as he felt. _Terrible. _His head throbbed with a wicked hangover. Why had he drank so much? _Because he'd never expected her to come_, he thought.

He pulled his rumpled waistcoat and shirt off, hanging them behind the door. He brushed his teeth and drank some more water. He realized with a groan, that all his clean shirts were in the other room. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize either walking shirtless to find clothes or to force himself back into yesterday's shirt. His eyes shot open at the quiet knock at the bathroom door. _He'd kept her waiting._

"Sorry, love," He said leaning heavily against the vanity. He smirked when he saw her poke her head into the small room. "Now, Swan, if you wanted to see me shirtless, you only had to ask love." She gave him no response, except for a small eye roll. She pushed into the room, clearly not bothered with his state of undress.

"Can't handle your rum?" Emma said, gently rubbing his back. Her fingertips trailing lightly over his old scars. "Some pirate." Her other hand rested on his bicep, squeezing lightly. He covered her hand with his and smiled at her in the mirror.

"Yeah," He said with a cocky grin and much more confidence than he felt. "Well, this old pirate is all yours love." He swallowed thickly. "If you'll still have me that is." There was a pregnant pause between them and as the silence stretched, Hook worried that he'd pushed her too fast.

"I did mean what I said last night," Emma said finally, meeting his eye in the mirror. Her own eyes overflowing with emotion. Killian felt his heart sink like a stone. So that's why she'd come. She came here to end it. _Gods he needed more rum. _

"Swan-"

"I love you Killian Jones. I love you so much, it scares me," She said as she kissed his shoulder, her lips lingering.

"Gods, Emma," He said, turning to face her, his hand tilting her chin up to met his eyes. His blue eyes overflowing with passion.

"I thought I lost you," She interrupted, trailing her fingers though his chest hair, her eyes brimming with tears. She rested her palm over his heart and seemed to draw strength from the steady beat beneath her hand. "If I lost you, I, I don't know what I would do," She blinked away her tears and looked at him fiercely. "And if you weren't so infuriating, I could have told you all this last night, instead of sitting in that chair watching you sleep off a bottle of rum."

"Emma, love," He started, but she covered his lips with her hand.

"Let me finish," She said, her speech clearly practiced as she watched him sleep. He smiled against her fingers at the thought. "I'm still not sure what is going to happen, with the hat, but we'll deal with it, and everything else, together, okay? God Killian, I love you."

"I love you too, Emma. So bloody much," He said without hesitation, a weight lifted off his chest as he said the words he'd thought for so long. He pulled her close to him, his arm tightly around her waist and they kissed desperately, all their pent up lust, desire and love fuelling their heated kiss. Their hands everywhere, as close as they were, it wasn't enough.

"I apologize Swan," He said, pulling away reluctantly. He gave her a small grimace as he motioned to the cramped bathroom. "I always imagined a more grand moment to first express my love for you."

"Killian," Emma laughed, a real laugh. She rested her forehead against his chest and he smiled against her hair. _Gods, he loved to hear her laugh_. She propped her chin on his chest and looked him square in the eye. "You've _expressed your love for me_, every moment we've been together since we first met." He cocked his brow at her questioningly and Emma smiled. "With your smile," She gently placed a soft kiss over his heart. "And your glances," She kissed his collar. "And your touch," She said gently nipping his pulse. "And your actions," She trailing her lips over his jaw. "And in every kiss," She said with a smile as she finally brought her lips back to his. Emma's hands raked through his hair, pulling lightly. They kissed languidly, his arms tight around her, until they were both breathless. _Gods, he loved her_. Emma finally pulled away, nipping lightly at his bottom lip.

"Now come on pirate," She whispered against his lips. She slowly raked her nails down his back, eliciting a low groan from him. "Let me introduce you to my sure fire hangover cure."

"And what's that Swan?" He asked curiously.

"Hot, sweaty sex," She said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She reached down and gently stroked his length from overtop his pants, causing his breath to hitch. "Unless, you don't think you can _handle it_?"

Without hesitation, he slung her over his shoulder, her surprised cries and giggles bringing a wide smile to his face. _Emma Swan giggled, who knew? _Killian lightly nipped at a patch of bare skin between her pants and her shirt before he dropped her onto the bed. He covered her body with his, trailing soft kisses over every inch of skin.

"I love you so much, Emma," He said again, so relieved he could tell her how he truly felt after all this time.

"Oh my god, Killian," Emma said as she pulled him into a bruising kiss. "I love you too." She reached for the laces of his pants and deftly wrapped her fingers around him, stroking lightly. "Let me show you how much," She said breathily.

_Gods, this woman would be the death of him._


	2. Together

**This idea of Killian and Emma having "the talk" has been rattling around in my head since S4x11; where Henry tells Hook he "likes Hook even less now that he and Emma are ****_together_****." And Killian gets this adorable look on his face, and replies with "Together? Did Emma use that word?"**

**There is an associated rant that goes along with this. Feel free to skip it, and jump to the one shot. I just needed to vent my feelings, and none of my friends watch Once Upon a Time, so you are all stuck with it :P**

**BEGIN RANT**

So, this scene broke my heart. Honestly, I was inconsolable for days. Quite frankly, I may never recover. Here is Hook, literally heartless, his impending death looming over him, a slave to his most hated enemy, running around trying to take away, essentially the only person he knows his True Love (Emma) loves (knowing he'll be dead so he can't even help Henry get him back). Henry (holy petulant pre-teen) shoots some 'shattered sight curse' laced insults at him. And in spite of _everything_, under the control of the Dark One or not, Hook gets this adorable look on his face and tries to find out if Emma mentioned him or their _relationship_ to her son. _Because he doesn't know what is going on with them_. Presumably he doesn't straight up ask Emma because a) he's busy with his heart being stolen or whatever and b) he assumes she will get awkward and not want to talk about it.

I get that Emma is "broken" and that she has "issues." But you know what, Hook does too! Arguably even more so, as he is _literally_ _ten times_ as old as Emma. He has 300 years of bad memories, between Milah, Liam and his dead parents (not to mention, almost everyone he ever knew is dead). Emma had a bad breakup with Neal and yes, going to prison and having to give up Henry was traumatic. Not like seeing your girlfriend murdered in front of you and then having your hand cut off traumatic, or having your brother horrifically die in your arms traumatic, but whatever. Seriously. Would it _kill_ Emma to be like "hey, yup we're obviously dating." She doesn't even need to say _dating_, Killian got hopefully just thinking they're _together. _Rage! Come on Emma! Get it together! Don't be so mean to Killian!

**RANT FIN **

**Now onto the story…**

* * *

Thoroughly satisfied, Emma sighed as Killian gently trailed his fingers across her bare stomach. She felt wondrously sore in all the right places. She rolled her head on the pillow, wanting to see the throughly sated look on Killian's face that she had come to yearn for, _almost as much as she did for him_. With a nervous jolt, she realized that his brows were knit and he looked to be a million miles away. His deep, blue eyes staring listlessly into space.

"Hey," She said, brushing her hand against his cheek. She blushed slightly as his scruff tickled her palm, mirroring the _delicious _sensations he'd recently made her feel when he was nestled between her thighs. "You still with me?"

"Aye," He said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat and laced his fingers with hers. He smiled and placed a soft kiss against her knuckles. "Sorry, love, just thinking."

"About?" Emma asked, curious. She licked her lips as her eyes trailed over his toned chest. She swallowed thickly and fought the urge to rake her nails through his chest hair. She knew he was trying to talk to her, _that she should at least attempt to meet his eyes_, but she was so distracted by him. She thought after they'd explored each other, the burning, consuming passion she felt for him would lessen, but she couldn't have been more wrong. _If anything it was intensifying._

"During the curse," Killian said slowly, his body tensing almost imperceptibly. If Emma hadn't been staring so intently at his naked form, she could have easily missed it. "Your lad, Henry, he said he likes me even less now that you and I are…_together_."

"Killian," Emma said sitting up and turning to face him squarely. "Henry didn't mean that. _No one_ meant anything they said during the curse. He really likes you," She said, smiling bashfully as she thought of the look of wonder that often crossed Henry's face when he spoke of the pirate captain.

"Aye, love," He said, shifting under her glaze. Emma cocked her head and eyed him curiously. She couldn't ever remember seeing her pirate look so, _nervous_. _What was going on with him? _She scooted closer to him on the bed and gently rested her hand against his heart. She found herself doing that more and more often since she'd almost lost him. _Liked to confirm his heart was where it belonged._

_"__Killian," _She said again more firmly. She tipped his face up to meet her eyes. "Talk to me."

"Sorry, Swan. It's just rather difficult to concentrate when your _bloody,_ exquisite, naked form is so close," He flashed her a smug smile, his bravado back in full swing. _She wasn't the only one who could hide behind her walls_. He tried to pull her close, but she resisted, not satisfied with his brush off. Sensing her reluctance, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "I just wasn't familiar with the term, that all love."

"The term?" Emma said, her brows furrowed.

"Aye, _together, _the characterization was foreign to me," He ran his hand through his hair. "I know I've adapted well, the dashing rapscallion that I am, but your realm and its customs can be overwhelming, especially to an old one handed pirate with a drinking problem." He slid _said hand_ back towards her and gently cupped her bare behind, trying in vain to inch her closer to him, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Emma smirked at him and swatted away his hand. She didn't believe for a second that anything had ever overwhelmed the captain in his entire, unnaturally long, life.

"Well, how would things go if we were back in the Enchanted Forest?" She said, trying to maintain a neutral expression.

"Well, if we're to pretend that a dashing pirate such as myself would even be allowed near the Charming's precious princess," He said leaning back against the headboard and flashing her a big smile. "I would have eagerly courted you, of course, as a suitor."

"Ah. So what's wrong with that _characterization. You being my suitor_?" She said with a smile, her words lilting as she copied his accent. Her smile unfaltering, not taking her eyes away from his, she rested her hand on his thigh.

"Well," He licked his lips nervously at her touch. He shifted uncomfortably again as he considered his next words carefully. "Typically, an breathtaking creature such as yourself has innumerable suitors. And obviously a suitor has no assurances that his affections are returned…"

"Oh, they're returned," Emma said, her eyes twinkling. Her hand drifted to his hardening length and he gasped at her brazen statement. She stroked him gently and smiled when his hand clutched the sheets roughly. "And there's no one else," She said, finally understanding what he needed from her. He closed his eyes at her words and arched himself into her touch. Her admission surprised her a little. Not the sentiment, she'd known she'd felt this way for a while, but having the courage to say it. _Say it first, _that was new for her.

"Gods, Swan," He said, roughly pulling her to him, their chests crashing together. Their lips collided, their moans lost in each other's mouths. Emma's hands delved into his dark locks, pulling lightly on his hair. His hand was everywhere on her skin, the sensations making her shiver. Emma trailed her hands down his body, relishing the feel of his taunt muscles under her. Hungrily, she pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking greedily. He groaned and pulled her impossibly closer. Breathlessly, Emma pulled her lips out of his grasp, but left their bodies intertwined. She knew she should just let it go, but she felt so vulnerable, so exposed. She wanted, _needed_, to know.

"Are you," She cleared her throat. _God she was so bad at this_. "Are you _courting_ anyone else?" Feeling more vulnerable than she had in, _ever_, she refused to meet his eyes. Gingerly, she played with the charms on his necklace.

"Swan," He said, his voice dripping with emotion. "There's no other. I only want you." He nuzzled her nose against her cheek until she tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. "I've only ever wanted you." She swallowed thickly when she saw the dept of emotion, the unwavering sincerity, staring back at her. A smile tugged at her lips before she could think to stop it.

"I'm not good at, at _this_," She said lamely.

"I beg to differ, love," Killian said with a smirk as he pulled her hand back to his now straining cock. "You seem _bloody brilliant_ to me."

Emma scoffed and rested her head against his shoulder. She placed a soft kiss against his skin. Silently thanking him for his ridiculousness, for taking some of the building tension out of the room, for always being exactly what she needed.

"It's just," She huffed as she searched for the words. Elaborate, lyrical declarations where _his thing, not hers. _"I'm not big on labels. I've never been."

"Emma," He said reverently, kissing the hollow of her neck sweetly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to pressure you, love. I just," He sighed and wrapped his arm more tightly around her. "I'll be whatever you want me to be, Swan. Gladly."

Soundlessly, she brushed her lips against his. She kissed him, slowly. She tried to put all of her emotions into the kiss. Hoping that it would be enough. That even though she couldn't say it, she could make him _feel_ what he meant to her. Killian pulled Emma's leg over him, so she was straddling him. His hand twisted in her hair. Emma sighed breathily as he trailed wet kisses down her neck. His member, hot and thick teased her wet folds. Frantically, Emma reached between them and positioned him at her entrance, dripping with need. God, it was almost embarrassing how quickly her body responded to him.

Looking into his eyes, impossibly blue, she lowered herself onto him in one quick motion, her hands resting on his shoulders, her mouth open in a soundless scream. Her body, still sore from their recent amorous activities, protested, but she blocked it out. Focusing only on him. His body was taunt with the effort of staying still, waiting for her to adjust to his size. His eyes drank her in, hungrily. Capturing his lips, she rocked her hips against his. His hand reached between them and kneaded at her breast, his thumb brushed against her nipple. She moaned loudly at the sensation and she felt Killian smile against her lips.

As Killian began to thrust against her in earnest, she tipped her head back in ecstasy. Her hair, trailing down her back. His hand and his arm went to her hips and pulled her hips down in time with his thrusts. Panting, her own hands clawed at his chest. This felt amazing, but she needed more. She needed to feel closer.

Seemingly sensing what she needed, _God, how did he always do that, _he flipped her roughly, pinning her between his hard body and the mattress. His coarse chest hair scraped over her breasts. He hips rocked into her. In their new position, he quickly found that spot inside her that never failed to bring her release. He brought his mouth down to her pert nipple and kissed and nipped and sucked roughly. Emma cried loudly out against the onslaught of sensations.

"Right there," Emma panted. "Oh my god Killian, right there."

"Come for me Emma, come for me now." Killian moaned against her skin. His own release building, he dropped his hand to her clit, wanting her to fall first. And oh God, she did. Her vision blurred and she cried out his name, over and over again as her orgasm rocked over her. As her walls clenched around him, he too came with a string of satisfied curses falling from his lips.

Groaning, Killian rolled off of Emma, not wanting to crush her. Before she could protest, he pulled her against him. Panting heavily, the lay together, their limbs intertwined. She rested her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady, if somewhat elevated, beat of his heart. If they weren't careful, they were never going to make it out of bed today. _Although_, Emma thought. _Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.__  
_

"We're definitely together Killian," She said, pulling back to meet his eyes. "You know that right?"

"Gods, Emma" He growled, against her hair. "You can't know what you do to me. What hearing you say that means to me."

She felt her heart sink as she heard the desperation in his voice. How could he think they weren't together? _That they weren't something? _She swallowed audibly, realizing the felt that way because of her. _Because she'd never told him differently. _Propping her chin on his chest,_ s_he eyed him carefully and tried to collect her thoughts. She knew that he needed more from her. For once her touches, smiles and kisses, they weren't enough. _Maybe they never were._

"It's not what you think," She said huffing slightly. Killian eyed her expectantly, their breathing still laboured. His hand gently rubbing her back, offering her silent support. "It's not that I'm scared we can't won't live up to the labels. It's more like, the labels, they can't, there's nothing to describe what _we are_."

"Swan—"

"Killian," She said interrupting him. She pulled herself up and cradled his face between her hands. She needed to say this, before she lost her courage. "You're my friend, my confidant, my lover, my teammate, _my pirate. _And I don't know what to call us, because I've never felt like this. I've never had this. But we're something. Something good, Killian. I know I'm not good at showing it, but I don't want to lose what we have, because—"

Suddenly, Killian was kissing her, her words lost to his passionate, bruising kiss. "Emma," He said, when he finally pulled away, his lips swollen and his breath ragged. His arms pulled her tight against him. "I can promise you, we won't lose _this_, or each other. Nothing will come between us. I won't let it."

"Good," She said simply, a broad smile on her lips.

* * *

**Reviews? Prompts? Rants? I'll take 'em all :)**


	3. A Christmas Miracle

**Merry Christmas everyone!**

**Reviews and prompts are always welcome!**

* * *

Laughter rang through the small loft, Christmas music playing softly in the background. Despite being a new, busy mother, Mary Margret had gone all out. The loft looked like something out of a Christmas card; garland, twinkling lights and festive decorations sprinkled tastefully throughout it. It seemed like the entire town had come out for the Christmas Eve gathering. Emma's pirate was no exception. Emma spotted him across the room, leaning against a pillar. His feet were crossed at the ankles, his hook resting on his belt. Excusing herself from a conversation she was only half listening to, Emma grabbed a glass tumbler and filled it, not taking her eyes off of him. Armed with a beverage, she made her way through the crowded room.

"Hey," Emma said with a smile as she bumped her hip playfully against Killian's.

"Swan," Killian said as he straightened up, his eyes twinkling. He looked at her in that way that never failed to make her heart flip. Like she was his whole world. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"I brought you some eggnog," Emma said ignoring his quip. Although she couldn't help it when her smile grew, and a faint blush crept onto her skin. Ever since their _scare_, that's what she'd taken to calling the whole Gold, heart debacle, smiles seemed to come to her lips more easily.

"My thanks love, but alas, your father already provided me with a glass, and I am afraid it just isn't my drink."

"Well, good thing this one is mostly rum then," Emma said with a smirk.

"In that case," Killian said with a wink as he reached for the glass. His fingers brushed against hers as she handed him the small tumbler and the passing contact felt like a current of electricity shot through her. He took a sip, Emma's eyes never leaving his.

"I'm really glad you're here," She said sincerely, the noise from the rest of the party seeming to dim around her. She only had eyes for him. "I know you're not a fan of, of _all this_," She said lamely gesturing to the pomp and circumstance around them.

"Now Swan," Killian said. "You should know by now that I am _a fan _of anything that has to do with you." Emma's blush deepened and she toyed with the charms on his necklace, trying to distract herself. Killian placed the eggnog on the table behind him and stilled her hand with his own. "Truly Emma, there's nowhere I would rather be."

Emma brought her free hand up to his cheek and gently traced his scar with her thumb. His bright eyes stared back at her, his thumb trailing over the back of her hand. She knew they were probably standing too close, the party was at her parents' house after all, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

With a coy smile, Emma glanced up at the ceiling and feinted disappointment. "Where's the mistletoe when you need it?"

"I actually understood that! Henry's been kind enough to enlighten me when it comes to your holiday traditions," Hook said with a smug smile. "And Swan, if you want me to kiss you, I can assure you there's no need for a poisonous berry to be involved."

"So kiss me then," Emma challenged, her fingers tightening around the lapels of his shirt.

His deep, blue eyes widened in surprise, as they quickly darted around the room. After a second, his lips twisted into a broad grin. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her close, his lips claiming hers slowly and deliberately. Emma sighed as she felt his smile, still ghosting against her lips. He tasted even more delicious than normal, like eggnog and rum. Sooner than Emma wanted, he pulled away. His face set in a smug grin.

"Sorry, love," He whispered with a chuckle. "But your mother is scowling at me and I would rather keep my parts intact."

Emma scoffed and rested her forehead against his shoulder. "Fair enough," She said, releasing her hold on him and stepping away reluctantly. He caught her hand as she slipped away, his thumb tracing the pulse point on her wrist.

"If you'll indulge an old pirate," He said, a hint of nervousness lacing his words. "Henry told me exchanging gifts is another aspect of this holiday." He swallowed thickly and reached into his jacket. With a small smile he handed Emma a small long box.

"Killian," Emma said, twisting the box in her hands. "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to," He said interrupting her.

She smiled warmly at the sincerity of his words. "Did Henry mention that gifts are normally exchanged Christmas morning, tomorrow?" She asked, raising her brow.

"Aye," Killian said, scratching behind his ear nervously. Emma felt like her heart was melting. She couldn't remember seeing her pirate so nervous. It was adorable. "I just assumed you would want to spend it with your family…"

"You're right," Emma said swallowing thickly, her tongue suddenly heavy in her mouth. _Who was nervous now? _"I do," She said, resting her hand possessively on his waist, her eyes meeting his fiercely. Any apprehension she felt faded immediately as Killian shot her the largest, most sincere smile she had ever seen cross his face, his eyes twinkling.

"Then I'll be there," He said, his voice thick with emotion as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Good," Emma said as she returned his smile and kissed his cheek roughly, her lips lingering. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she gestured to the box in her hand. "But can I still open this tonight?"

"Aye, love," He said with a chuckle. _As if he could deny her anything._

With a sly grin, Emma tore into the paper, her heart jumping as she realized it was a jewelry box. She glanced at Killian, questioningly, but he only smiled at her in return. Her fingers trembling slightly, she opened the box. Inside was a silver necklace, a simple, yet breathtaking jewel encrusted anchor hanging from the chain.

"Killian—" Emma said, running her finger over the charm.

"I know you don't fancy jewelry, but I've noticed you wear necklaces," Killian said, the cadence of his voice slightly more hurried than normal. "But if you don't like it, I can exchange it, love. I just saw it and I thought of you, _of us. _The anchor was because—"

"Because you're not going anywhere?" Emma interrupted, a warm feeling of contentment settling over her limbs, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Aye," He said simply the smile returning to his face.

"It's perfect," Emma said, smiling brightly when she saw her words light up Killian's face. "Really, Killian, it's too much—"

"May I?" Killian asked, ignoring her concerns and stepping behind her.

With a smile, Emma undid the clasp and held the necklace up to her neck. Killian brushed her hair over her shoulder and, for a man with one hand, deftly closed the clasp. He placed a small kiss at the base of her neck which sent a shiver down Emma's spine. Toying with the anchor between her fingers, Emma turned to face him. Killian met her glaze, his eyes overflowing with passion.

"Meet me outside," Emma said, her voice embarrassingly raspy. "In five minutes." She commanded, giving his hand a firm squeeze. Killian smirked at her brazen request and nodded quickly.

Emma hurried up the stairs to her room. Quickly, she found the classified ad she'd left on her desk earlier. Any doubt she'd had before had been chased from her mind. _He had a way of doing that. _Hurrying down the stairs, she waved at her parents as she went. Snow eyed her questioningly, but Emma's steps didn't falter. Her only thought was her pirate and the look she hoped would cross his face when she suggested that they move in together. Emma Swan, finally letting someone in._ It was a Christmas miracle. _


	4. Happiness

**Prompt: **"how bout david walks in on emma and killian and killian tries to hide behind the door"

**Thanks to the anonymous reviewer who left this. The prompt kind of got away from me and turned into this, but I hope you still like it! If you have a prompt you would like to see me have a go at, please feel free to leave it! Reviews in general are also encouraged and are motivating! :)**

* * *

Heaven was Emma Swan. There weren't a lot of things he was certain of, but this was one thing he knew to be true. The feel of her skin under his calloused palm, her long, blonde locks framing her delicate face like a halo, her normally fierce eyes, seeking his, dark with desire. Her lips, soft and supple claiming his mouth in that hungry, consuming manner. He loved the smell of her, vanilla and sandalwood and something, something uniquely her. It was moments like these, her body, warm and flushed with anticipation, pinned beneath him as they kissed each other breathless, when Killian Jones felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. Because nothing in all the living realms had ever, _could ever,_ feel this good.

Breaking their kiss only long enough to impatiently tug her shirt over her head, Emma lay before him in just her jeans and this realm's excuse for a corset._ A bra, _he reminded himself silently. _They were called bras, and if truth be told, he rather fancied them. _Emma's hands roamed over his toned back, pulling him closer, his own shirt hastily discarded on her floor long ago. He was straining, almost painfully, in his own jeans, but they finally had the luxury of an empty loft, and he had no intention of squandering it. A rare, perfect storm of activity found David on patrol, Mary Margret being mayoral with Neal, and Henry at school. Killian planned on taking full advantage of their privacy. On _finally _taking his time with Emma. On mapping every inch of her skin with his hand, with his mouth.

Emma looked up at him, her eyes twinkling, a wide smile painted on her lips. His heart leapt as he realized that, while once rare, he was becoming more and more accustomed to seeing a smile on her face, to seeing her happy. He felt a smile creeping onto his own face, as he briefly considered if _he_ was the reason for her happiness. _Gods, he hoped so. _He ran his hand through her silky tresses. She moaned when he pulled lightly to tilt her head back, giving him better access to her neck. He kissed and licked her delicate skin, his stubble tickling as he went.

"Wait, stop," Emma said softly. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, his nose bumping against hers as his eyes searched hers for signs of distress. "Do you hear something?" She whispered, resting her weight on her elbows and sitting up slightly. Her chest, rising and falling quickly, rocked against his in a terribly distracting manner.

"I didn't hear anything, love," Killian said, blowing softly in her ear. He moved to nibble on that spot where her neck met her shoulder that never failed to elicit the most delightful moan from her lips, when she shifted under him, pulling her skin from his grasp.

"Killian," Emma said more firmly, jabbing him in the shoulder. "I'm serious! You don't hear that?"

Killian paused and listened, slightly annoyed. Not at Emma, but at whatever irksome sound had delayed what he suspected was about to become some very pleasurable time with his Swan. Distantly, he registered the faintest noise. Someone from the hallway perhaps or another loft even. His brow furrowed slightly, concerned for a moment that perhaps he was slipping. Swan had been able to concentrate on this distant noise despite his, _what he thought_, were skillful ministrations. He'd certainly been too distracted to notice. Hell, he barely heard it now.

"It's nothing, Swan," He said, sliding his hand along her stomach, His jaw was set, and he was determined to make her so dizzy with pleasure that she would be able to hear nothing but her own racing heartbeat. Just as his fingers brushed over the soft, lacy material of her bra, a sharp murmur of conversation drifted up to meet his ears. "Is that—" He started, but the rest of his question was lost as Emma shoved him roughly. He rolled with an oomph onto his back, alarm bells ringing loudly in his head.

"Oh my god," Emma said, already on her feet, roughly shoving her arms back into her shirt.

"It's alright, Swan, it's nothing we can't handle," Killian said lazily, as he sat up. Emma eyed him, despite his carefree tone, she could easily read the tension he carried in his muscles, his torso still shirtless. The conversation downstairs was growing in volume, although neither could make out the words. "I'm armed," He said gesturing to his hook. "Any villain foolish enough to break into the Sheriff's loft will—"

"Killian," Emma interrupted with a low hiss, panic darting across her face as she frantically buttoned her shirt. "It's not some villain, it's my parents." Suddenly, clear as day, Snow's lilting laugh drifted up the stairs and Emma froze. Her shirt still partially unbuttoned she scooped up Killian's discarded clothing and boots, thrusting them roughly into his arms. "Why are you still sitting there? Did you not here me?" She asked him sharply.

"Swan, I," He paused dumbfounded. Nervously, he moistened his lips. "Are your parents not aware that we're, I mean that we've…" He hesitated again, suddenly unsure how to characterize their relationship. _No, he knew, _He thought, with a sigh. _More like he was unsure how Swan characterized it. _

"They know," Emma huffed as rolled her eyes. "But that doesn't mean I want to be caught, _like some teenager_, in a compromising situation."

"Ah," Killian said, his voice low. He swallowed thickly as he tried to keep the disappointment he felt off his face. _What exactly he was disappointed in, he wasn't sure_. "Of course, love," He said, a wide smile on his face that he prayed reached his eyes. "I'll just nip out the window, and they'll be none the wiser."

"Killian," Emma said, her features soft once again. "I didn't mean—"

"It's no trouble, love," He said as began untangling the pile of his clothes. He quirked his brow suggestively. "Nor will it be the first time, I assure—"

"Emma," David's voice interrupted. They both froze as the distinctive sound of feet on the stairs joined the sound of his voice.

"Just a sec," Emma called, her eyes wide as they darted around the room. The small loft held little in they way of hiding places. She grabbed Killian's arm and pushed him against the wall beside the door. "Stay here," She ordered, her voice barely above a whisper. "And don't make a sound—"

"Swan," He said, his voice low. "You can't be serious—"

"Please," She said, trying to keep the panic from her voice. "Killian, I—"

A soft knock at the door interrupted her and she jumped. She looked to Killian wordlessly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes pleading. Killian smirked in spite of himself. _It has been a while since he had seen Swan so dishevelled. _He met her eyes and nodded, not wanting to be the cause of her distress. His smirk still in place, he looked pointedly at her chest, her lacy bra still exposed. Emma furrowed her brow and then followed his line of vision. She blushed furiously when she remembered her top was still mostly undone. Frantically she worked the buttons.

"Emma," David called again. "It's me, I was just hoping to have a quick word with you."

"Coming," Emma said after shooting one last furtive glance at Killian. Like she expected him to dart out from behind the door. _No need to worry there, love_, Killian thought to himself. _He'd like to keep all his parts where they were, thank-you very much. _Though truthfully, he wasn't sure if he feared David or Emma's hypothetical retribution more. Emma opened the door and held it at a 90-degree angle from the wall, firmly shielding Killian from David's sight.

"Everything alright?" David asked. "I didn't expect to find you at the loft on your day off."

"Everything is fine, great," Emma said. Her voice bright and cheery. Killian leaned casually against the wall and held back a snicker and he saw her hand tighten its death grip on the door, her knuckles already white. "I just had to come home and change, I, um, spilled some coffee. Such a klutz," She said, her voice reaching impossibly high levels. Hearing herself, she cleared her throat. "What are you doing home, aren't you on patrol?"

"Just came home for lunch," David said. "But since you're here, there's something I really would like to talk to you about, do you mind?" David asked. Killian saw Emma's entire body tense and she swallowed thickly.

"Of course," She said. "I'll meet you downstairs in—"

"No need, here's fine," David said, striding into the room.

_Bloody hell._

Thinking quickly, Emma pushed the door fully open. Killian pressed his entire body flush against the wall, trying to make himself as thin as possible. He angled his still bare feet awkwardly so his toes wouldn't catch the door and stop its movement too early. He held his breath and closed his eyes. _The bloody lengths he would go to for this woman._ His hand clutched his boots and clothes tightly and he focused on his breathing, trying to make as little noise as possible. He vaguely registered the sounds of Emma's bedsprings sighing and he realized they must be sitting on the bed. He hoped Emma had the foresight to angle her father's back to him.

"Emma," David said, his voice strangely muffled to Killian's ears behind the door. Although, he could still clearly make out what he were saying. "Your mother and I, we just want you to know that we're here for you and we support you."

"I know that," Emma said quickly. "What's going on, is everything okay?"

"What I mean is, Hook may have not been the man we would have picked for you, but we would have to be blind to not see that he cares for you. And that you care for him," David said. Killian's ears burned at the sound of his name, his interest decidedly piqued. He starred at the pale wood of the door, wishing he could see Swan's face. To see her reaction.

"David," Emma said, her voice firm, Killian smiled as he imagined the embarrassed blush that was sure to be creeping onto her cheeks. "You don't have to, seriously it's—"

"I do," David said, interrupting her.

Killian's grin started to grow, eager to hear what the Charmings truly thought of him. His grin wavered slightly when he felt one his boots slowly, but surely slipping from his grasp. The space between his chest and the door was too narrow for his clunky brace to reach around and secure the offending footwear. He cursed inwardly. He considered moving the door, just enough to slide his hook in front of him, but he couldn't risk it. What if David saw the door move? Of all the times to only have one hand…

"You know your the story of your mother and I," David said, continuing. Obviously unperturbed to Killian's impending plight. Killian slowly lifted his leg, careful to keep it from touching the door. Gently, he used his knee to press the boot against the wall firmly, biting his lip as he went. He released the breath he was holding. _Crisis averted_, he thought.

"David," Emma said again, clearly trying to usher her father out of the room.

"We're no strangers to obstacles in a relationship," David continued, ignoring her protests. "And we don't want to be obstacles for you and Hook. Your mother and I love you, Emma and we want you to happy, and we can see that the Captain makes you happy."

Killian held his breath as a long pause filled the room.

"He does," Emma said quietly. So quietly he almost missed it, had he not been listening so intently. "He makes me really happy."

Her words effected him immediately, a lightness bubbling his chest. _He made her feel happy_, a stupid thing to feel proud of, surely. Yet here he was, the fearsome Captain Hook hiding awkwardly behind a door in Snow White's loft, grinning like a fool.

"You deserve happiness, Emma," David carried on. "And that's why your mother and I want you to know we'll do whatever we can to make this easier for you. I know Regina gets Henry half the time, but if you need us to watch him, or if you need me to take extra shifts at the station, so you and Hook can have some time... Just whatever we can do it make it easier for the two of you, you can count on us."

"Thanks, dad," Emma said, her voice dripping with emotion. "You don't know what that means to me." Her voice sounded even more muffled and Killian could only assume they were embracing. He felt slightly awkward to be intruding on the moment, but what Dave never knew couldn't hurt him.

"Now, why don't you and Hook come down and join us for some lunch?" David asked. Killian breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Not that he wanted Emma's moment with her father cut short, but his body was more than protesting the awkward position he had wedged himself into.

"I, um, okay," Emma stammered. "I'm not sure if he's free, but I'll give him a call or—"

"No need Emma," David said, smugness dripping from his voice. "I'm sure Killian heard me just fine? The door isn't very thick." Killian felt his heart flip in his chest. _The bloody bastard had known all along. _A very pregnant pause filled the space. Killian could have sworn he felt Emma's stare boring through the wood of the door. His jaw tightly clenched he rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, knowing the jig was fully and truly up.

"Aye," He said, swallowing thickly. No one answered him and for a moment he wondered if they had heard him. His voice was bound to sound as muffled to them as theirs did to him.

"Alright then," said David finally, clapping his hands together. Killian heard footsteps and fully expected Emma's father to pull the door back, exposing Killian in his uninspired hideout. Instead, without hesitation, David strode out the room, pulling the door firmly shut behind him without so much as a glance or a comment. Killian stood with his back against the wall, his shirt and waistcoat bunched in his hand, his knee still awkwardly holding his boot in place. A bemused expression on his face.

Emma's mouth still hung open in surprise. A deep flush had settled onto her skin, even more vivid than Killian had imagined. No doubt due to her father's dramatic reveal of Killian. Self-consciously, Killian lowered his foot back to the ground, catching the falling boot with his hook before it hit the floor. He grinned at her sheepishly, trying to read her as he so often did. Emma buried her head in her hands.

"You must have loved that," She groaned loudly.

"It certainly had it moments," He said, moving cautiously towards her.

Suddenly, Emma's entire body was shaking. Killian felt his heart plummet. He'd expected her to be less than happy, but he'd never anticipated this outpouring of emotion. In an instant he dropped his effects and was beside her on the bed, his arms firmly wrapped around her. He cradled her head against his chest, gently stroking her hair as he rocked her.

"I'm sorry, Swan," He murmured. "You ordered me to be silent, but he knew I was there, love and—"

"I can't believe," Emma sputtered, laughter falling freely from her lips. "The look on your face," She croaked out as she gasped for air. She pulled back to look at him and Killian realized she wasn't crying. Well, perhaps there were a few tears, but they weren't from sorrow. He felt like a weight had been lifted of his chest. "You looked so ridiculous!"

"Now, Swan," Killian said, her antics contagious as he felt laughter beginning to vibrate within his own chest. "You know I've never looked ridiculous a day in my life, the dashing rapscallion that I am."

Her laughter rang through the loft and she clung to him as she fought to catch her breath. The sound was music to his ears. It made him feel like he was soaring. Her couldn't help but take her in during her moment of abandon, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright and full of joy. He knew in that moment he would spend the rest of his days chasing this sound. Because Heaven was Emma Swan. And he made her happy.


	5. They Could Handle It

**Spoilers for 4x16 if you're not caught up!**

* * *

He woke first, though it shouldn't have come as a surprise. Killian had always been among the first to rise, long before his centuries aboard the _Jolly_. As he slowly ebbed back into consciousness, he felt the weight of her on his shoulder. Without opening his eyes, he shifted slightly, his hooked arm tight around her waist, as he pulled her closer. Her scent, sweet, and light, _and so her_, invaded his senses.

Under normal circumstances, he would relish the feel of her, pressed against him. The warmth of her body seeping into his bones. But something in the loft felt _off. _An uncomfortable pricking made the hairs on the back of Killian's neck stand on end. The vague sensation that something was wrong. Then, he remembered. The flash of purple light. _Another bloody curse or spell or some nonsense. _The crushing dread that had consumed him just before the enticing pull of sleep had. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness. That he was powerless to stop whatever evil the Crocodile had in mind for Emma.

His eyes shot open as he bolted upright, suddenly very much awake. His neck was stiff from the awkward position he'd fallen asleep in, but he seemed no worse for wear. Killian clenched his jaw as he took in the space, his arms still protectively wrapped around her. He very much doubted the villains had loosed a sleeping curse without some nefarious motive in mind. Finding no imminent threat, he gently jostled Emma, her head still cradled against his shoulder.

"Swan," He said, the lilt in his voice more pronounced than normal. He cleared his throat and willed himself to sound more awake. "Emma, love, are you alright?"

He felt a shaky panic starting, deep within his chest when she didn't respond. Desperately, he felt for her pulse under her jaw. Killian's eyes darted across her features, her long eyelashes fanned out across her cheek, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks rosy.

_If something had happened to her…_

He let out a shuddering breath when he found her pulse. _Strong, just like her. _Tenderly, he ran his fingers through her hair, tucking her silky strands behind her ear. Emma stirred, _finally,_ in his arms, her brows furrowed and a frown on her lips. He closed his eyes in relief and kissed her forehead softly, his lips lingering. Trying in vain to chase away the feeling the mere thought of her absence had left.

"A sleeping spell? Seriously?" Emma grumbled into his shoulder. Her voice thick with sleep and laced with confusion. Killian smirked at her trademark gumption; more than relieved it was still intact. The vice like feeling gripping his heart lessening. Gingerly she raised her head to meet his eyes. Her bright green eyes were still heavy with sleep, her blonde tresses adorably mussed from her nap, however brief. The right side of her face was slightly red and there was a long crease on her cheek from his leather jacket._ Gods, she was stunning_. She rested her hand on his chest, as if she too were loath to let him go. Her fingers tightening around the lapel on his jacket.

"Aye," Killian said, gently tracing the indent on her cheek with the back of his hand. His smirk softening to a small, genuine smile when Emma leaned into his touch. "Courtesy of Maleficent, I'd wager."

"Henry," Emma said quickly, suddenly tense in his arms. Her eyes wide as she untangled herself from his embrace. "And my parents… God, how long were out?"

"A little more than an hour," Killian said as he pulled himself to his feet with a quick glance at the clock glowing on the stovetop. His jaw was tight as the unspoken words floated between them. _That there was no telling how much damage the villains had been able to cause in that time_. "Let's find your family, shall we, Swan?" Killian said softly, as he moved purposely towards the door.

"Killian," Emma said, gently catching his elbow. He turned back towards her, his brow raised questioningly. Tightening her fingers around his necklace, she pulled him towards her. Her lips silencing any questions he might have asked. She kissed him slowly, as if she were trying to memorize each and every contour of his lips. Killian pulled her flush against his body and groaned into her mouth with she arched against him. Her hands drifted to cup his face, pulling him close, _impossibly closer_. Her kiss becoming more demanding, more desperate. His own hand delved into her hair, kissing her for all he was worth, _because Gods he loved this woman_.

_She was his happy ending. _

"Far be it for me to complain," Killian said, breathing heavily, warmth coursing through his veins, when they finally broke apart. He rested his thumb against the dimple in her chin, pulling her eyes back to meet his own. "But what was that for?"

"I just, before, when we saw the magic," Emma swallowed thickly, her eyes, still fierce despite the fact they were brimming with tears, darting between his own carefully. "There wasn't time, but I just…"

"I know," Killian said, gently brushing his lips against hers, when her words failed her. "I know, Emma."

_He couldn't lose her either_.

"Come on," Emma said as she smiled weakly and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Her voice rough. "We should go…"

With a dull click, the apartment door unlocked and Killian swore he could feel the hope radiating off of Emma. _She really had became quite the optimist of late. _They let out a collective sigh of relief when Mary Margret and David strode into the loft. The author's page, safely in David's hands. _The Queens had failed in that regard at least._

"Emma," Mary Margret said, her voice suspiciously shaky as the door closed with a quiet thud. "We have something we need to tell you. It can't wait."

"Henry?" Emma asked, after swallowing thickly. Fear clearly painted on her face. "Is he—"

"He's okay, we were just with him, but Emma," David interrupted, his words instantly reassuring her, despite his hesitation to continue. "You might want to sit down."

"I'll just—" Killian began motioning towards the door, but Emma captured his hand in hers. She squared her shoulders and jut out her chin, as if she were preparing for battle. _Later, he would think that perhaps she had been._

"Stay, please?" She asked, with a small wavering smile.

"Always, Swan," He said, squeezing her hand gently. He smiled at her as they took their place at the table across from Mary Margret and David, braced for whatever news they had to share. He didn't need 300 years of experience to know whatever was coming wasn't good, but he knew, _whatever it was_, they could handle it.


	6. They Understood Each Other

**Warning: Contains spoilers for season 4B! Speculation ****fic for upcoming episodes.**

* * *

Killian knew why she had to go. To reclaim Regina's happy ending. It was what she did; she was the Saviour after all. But it was more than that. This little, _road trip_, as Swan had taken to calling it, came at an opportune time. It would allow her some much needed space from her parents. To gain some perspective in light of their startling confession. Her decision, not to run, but to get some room to breathe, made perfect sense to him. They'd always understood one another, practically from the moment they met. Although, this understanding did little to quell the dull ache that had settled in his chest at the thought of her parting. However short she claimed it would be.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched her hug Henry tightly, murmuring something quietly to him out of his earshot. The lad returning the affection in kind, despite his increasingly turbulent teenage hormones. The Charmings stood awkwardly off to the side of the group and he fought to maintain what he hoped was an expression of neutrality as he watched Emma turn towards them. Her shoulders back, her jaw clenched, her eyes dark. Her hair shone like spun gold in the fading light. _She was a vision. _Her body language was tense as she exchanged a few terse words with her parents.

"Hey," Emma said, as she walked towards him with the beginnings of a coy smile on her face. She'd obviously donned her false bravado as well as he red leather jacket this morning. "Don't worry so much, it's only a couple days. Maybe a week."

"Aye, Swan," Killian replied with a small smile of his own. Although his didn't quite reach his eyes. "Doesn't mean I won't miss you, love." _Or worry about you._

"I always knew you were sentimental," Emma said, lacing her fingers through his. He swayed towards her involuntarily. His thumb gently strumming along the back of her hand.

"Perhaps," He conceded with a small nod. _Always when it came to her. _

"It means a lot to me that you'll keep an eye on Henry. It's just, things with my parents right now…" Her voice faltered and his heart positively ached. He longed to sooth the furrow from her brow. To mend the discontent between her and her parents. Gods know he would do anything, had he any clue where to begin.

"I know, love," He said with a sad smile. "But I give you my word, no harm shall come to your lad while I draw breath—"

"Don't even joke," Emma said, squeezing his hand tightly. She rested her free hand over his heart. Neither saying what the other was surely thinking. That as long as Gold and the Queens of Darkness were still at large, no one's safety was guaranteed, her son and pirate included. "Just make sure he does his homework and goes to bed at a reasonable time. Oh, and don't teach him to cheat at cards. Or show him your loaded dice."

The back of Killian's neck positively itched and he felt the tips of his ears turning pink. Surely, there was no point in troubling Emma with the knowledge that the lad was already more than well acquainted with both the pirate's cards and trick die. He'd tell her of course, _all in good time. _

"You needn't worry, love," He said with small smile, hoping Emma would blame his reddened ears on the wind. "Henry and I will get along just fine until you return."

"I know," Emma said, quietly. She toyed with the charms on his necklace, as her eyes slowly traced his features. As if she were trying to etch him in her memory. They stood together, neither saying anything, neither willing to break away first. Killian swallowed thickly as he brushed a strand of her hair over her shoulder with his hook. He knew his concerns were misplaced. His behaviour foolish. Emma had explained she would be in contact with him via the communication device. But still…

Well the circumstances this time were markedly different, he couldn't help but recall the last time he'd sent her off in her ridiculous yellow vessel. How his hair had stood on end as the rolling thunder sounded in the distance, the bloody demon Pan's curse imminent. How his entire body had ached to pull her into his arms and never let go. _But he hadn't._

_He'd be damned if he made that mistake again. _Without further preamble, Killian pulled Emma into a crushing hug, his arms tight around her. Without missing a beat, she melted into his embrace, toying with the perpetually unruly hair at the nape of his neck. He burrowed his face into her shoulder as she kissed the column of his throat, her lips lingering.

"There's not a day that will go by that I won't think of you," Emma whispered, her words hot against his neck.

He shook his head and a puff of air escaped his lips as he realized, _of course_, her thoughts mirrored his own. He couldn't help but smile, as he recognized his own words, his declaration of his feelings towards her repeated back to him. Words that she'd so obviously remembered from so long ago. He couldn't have squashed the feeling of elevation had he tried. He swallowed thickly and racked his uncharacteristically blank mind for the words he desperately needed her to hear.

_Be careful._

_I'll miss you._

_Come back to me._

_I love you. _

_Gods, I love you._

"Good," He whispered finally, his voice cracking slightly with emotion, yet solemn. He held her more tightly. The warmth of her body seeping into his own. Her blonde locks tickling his nose as he breathed, as he greedily inhaled her scent. He knew he had to let her go, that he was only making this more difficult for her, but he was selfish. The supposed bloody length of time of their separation made no difference. He didn't have the strength to let her go. _Not this time._

Far too soon, Emma pulled away, but not before she kissed his cheek roughly. Reluctantly, he let her slip from his arms and watched wordlessly as she climbed into her bug. Regina was already waiting in the passenger seat, mumbling something about inadequate leg room. Emma shot him one last shaky smile and he knew he'd said the right thing, _that she'd understood his meaning_, when he saw her fierce green eyes overflowing with emotion. After all, they'd always understood each other.


	7. Long Distance Charges May Apply

**Spoilers! This one shot (because my muse apparently refuses to work on any of my multiple chapter works anymore) takes place when Emma is on her road trip somewhere around 4x19. Reviews and prompts are always welcome :)**

* * *

He hadn't slept well, not since she'd left. It was ludicrous. It wasn't as if they had ever shared a bed. And she most certainly had not spent the night. _Not yet._ She'd told him not to worry. Rightfully so; he knew the Saviour was more than capable of taking care of herself. But still, night after night, he found himself lying on his back in his bunk, staring listlessly at the ceiling. Thinking about her. Worrying about her. Missing her. The pull of sleep dangling just out of his grasp. The feeling was new to the Captain. _And bloody frustrating. _While a staggering number of actions during his centuries of piracy ought to have left him tossing and turning, for whatever reason it simply hadn't been the case. There'd been nightmares of course. Hundreds, _thousands,_ of nights plagued by terrible visions, but sleep had never alluded him before. Not like this. Not until she'd left.

Despite the lingering chill in the air, he'd moved from Granny's back to his ship. He found that sleep claimed him more easily amidst the familiar, gentle rocking of the _Jolly_. Not much more easily, mind you. But it was better than nothing. Opting for sleep instead of warmth was a simple choice. Especially since he had a sneaking suspicion he'd need his wits about him once Zelena returned to Storybrooke. He had no intention of allowing that bloody witch to curse his lips again, or any part of him for that matter. _Especially not now that Emma has finally started kissing him._

She'd been gone for almost a week when a shrill, foreign noise blared through this cabin. Startling Killian out of the fragile sleep he'd finally, _finally_, fallen into. With a low groan and some creative curses falling from his lips, he reached for his brace, unwilling to be caught vulnerable by whatever fresh hell awaited him. After a moment of disorientation, he realized the infernal noise was coming from the pocket of his leather jacket, hung neatly on a hook on the wall. Not a villain, but his talking phone,_ of course. _

Realizing there was no pressing danger, he dropped his hook back on the low shelf beside his bed and flopped back onto his pillow. His arm slung over his face, as if it could block out the sound. The incessant beeping continued, despite his best efforts to ignore it. He shifted slightly and glanced at the small clock beside his hook. The hands indicated it was mere minutes until four in the morning.

He groaned again, more loudly this time, when he realized it was pointless to go back to sleep. Years at sea had left him an early riser. Something which he was learning did not change, regardless of how much, _or how little_, sleep he had gotten the night before. By the time he managed to fall back asleep, his bloody internal clock would wake him. He grit his teeth and threw back the thick blanket covering him with a long, drawn out sigh. While he may not be able to sleep, there was no reason he had to put up with the damned noise for another moment. He quite literally dragged himself out of bed and stumbled towards his jacket. The slats of wood cool against the bare soles of his feet.

He glanced at the contraption, turning it over in his hand as he pondered where in the realms the bloody quiet button was located. His heart skipped a beat when Emma's face shone brightly back at him from the screen. With a jolt, he realized she was calling him. Hastily, he flipped it open, furious at himself for having kept her waiting.

"S'emma," He mumbled into the phone, his voice heavy with sleep. He paced his cabin, suddenly filled with an impending sense of dread for her unexpected call. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Swan, what in the blazes is wrong?"

"You were asleep," She said. A statement, not a question. "It's late, _of course_ you were asleep." Despite the nagging feeling of concern still prickling at the base of his skull, he couldn't help but smile at the sound of her voice. However far away it sounded. The late, _early,_ hour and the feeling of exhaustion deep in his bones suddenly seeming trivial.

"S'all right," He replied, _truly meaning it_, as he lowered himself back onto his bed. He kept his feet planted on the floor and rested his forearm against his thigh. His brows furrowed, he leaned heavily on his blunted arm, his hand cradling the phone to his ear. "Is everything alright? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just, God," Emma paused and took a long, stuttering breath. "I'm sorry I woke you, it's stupid."

"Nothing that has to do with you is _stupid_, Swan," Killian replied. The shaky, unfamiliar lilt of her voice stoking the suffocating feeling of unease in his chest. He closed his eyes and wished he was with her. Imagined how he'd reach for her, tilt her chin up until her brilliant, green eyes met his own, imploring steely blues. Pictured how he would patiently, carefully wait until she saw the sincerity behind his words.

"No, believe me, it is," Emma said, with a short, humourless laugh.

"Tell me anyway," He said.

"I had a dream, and I just, I couldn't," She paused again, and sighed heavily. "I just, I just really wish you were here right now."

"As do I, Swan," Killian replied. _So bloody much_, he thought to himself. He swallowed thickly. There was no use in making this more difficult for her than it had to be. He dropped his voice an octave before he continued, his bravado back in full swing. "I think you'd be pleasantly surprised with the sheer number of _distractions_ I'm _intimately _familiar with, love."

"Oh my god," Emma scoffed. "You're not gonna ask me what I'm wearing, are you?"

"Should I?" Killian asked, his smile growing. He leaned back against the headboard, his head resting against the arm slung behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles. "Forgive me, love. This talking phone etiquette is unfamiliar territory."

"It's just called a phone, Killian," Emma chided and Killian could have sworn he heard her eyes roll through the device. He smiled to himself as she gave a weak laugh. Although the smile didn't adorn his face for long.

His stomach dropped like a rock and his smile quickly vanished when her flat laugh suddenly morphed into a choking sob. Inwardly, he cursed himself for clearly saying the wrong thing. Obviously, his ability to read his Swan was greatly diminished at four in the morning. Or perhaps it had to do with the fact that he couldn't read her body language and had only her voice to guide him. Regardless, he doubted he could have handled the situation any worse.

"Emma, Emma, sweetheart," He cooed into the phone. He clutched the phone so tightly, his hand began to ache. His shut his eyes tightly as her gut wrenching sobs cut through him like a thousand tiny razors. Gods, what he wouldn't give to be with her now. To take her into his arms and dry her tears. To whisper quiet words of adoration into her hair until she calmed. He supposed he would have to make due with simply his silver tongue. "Hey, it's alright. Talk to me, love. I'm here. I'm right here."

Gradually her sobs subsided, until she was simply sniffling loudly into the phone. It was likely only a couple of minutes, but it had felt like eons to Killian.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Killian asked carefully, for her benefit more than his. He didn't need her to tell him what she'd dreamt of. Of Cruella. And Henry. The Cliffs. _Even heroes make mistakes_. Though, if truth be told, he would hardly call her actions a mistake. Given the choice, he knew he would have made the same one, without hesitation. He wasn't sure if that would be a comforting thought to Emma or not, considering his past and his somewhat questionable status as a hero.

"No," Emma replied quickly, with a hard edge to her voice. Killian clenched his jaw, knowing she'd have to talk about it. At some point at least. If not to him, than to someone.

"Where are you?" He asked instead. There was no point in pushing her. His lass was as bloody stubborn as they came.

"In a hotel. In New York," Emma said, sniffling.

"Is Regina there with you?"

"She's with Robin and Roland, making sure they're safe," Emma said, quickly filling him in on the confrontation that had occurred between Zelena and the former Evil Queen.

"I wish you weren't alone, Swan," Killian said quietly. Images of her, red-eyed and alone in a strange city making his heart positively ache.

"Oh, God," Emma said, for a moment sounding like her old self. Like the Emma he'd climbed a beanstalk with. "Believe me, I would _so_ _much_ rather be alone than have to deal with Regina's sass about my_ scary dream._"

"If I leave now, I can be there by morning," He offered. He fought against the lump that was forming in his throat when he considered that she'd phoned him when she'd felt vulnerable. That she really, _truly_ was done running from him.

"What, Captain Hook is going to hitchhike to New York?"

"I'm not sure what _hitchhike_ is, but you of all people should know by now that I am nothing if not resourceful," He said in mock indignation. "Have you forgotten? I've found you in the city once before already. Without the _Jolly_, no less."

"Like I could forget that," She said softly. Killian thought he could _almost_ hear the smile in her voice. "No, we'll be home in a couple days, and knowing you're keeping Henry safe, that's more important. It's just, seeing Regina with Robin today… I don't know, it just made me really miss you."

"I miss you too, love," He said quietly. A pregnant pause drifted between them. The distance between them suddenly seeming almost overwhelmingly vast.

"I'm sorry I woke you," Emma said at last. Her voice still far too shaky for Killian's liking. "And for acting like a crazy person. I'll let you get some sleep—"

"Have I ever told you of the time I accidentally stole a horse belonging to a prince?" He interrupted. Telling himself that he simply _selflessly_ wished to ensure she was alright before he ended their communication. That he wished to prolong their exchange solely for her benefit, not because he couldn't bring himself to part from the sound of her voice in his ear.

"How do you _accidentally _steal a horse?" She asked with a laugh. A real one this time.

"Well, I was but a lad—"

"So, what? Like three hundred years ago?"

"Something like that," He said rolling his eyes with a smile. "Truthfully, the majority of the blame rested with Liam."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He told the story slowly, careful to avoid leaving out even the smallest detail. A smile tugged at the corner of his lip as he realized the rich timbre of his voice was having its desired effect and slowly soothing Emma. He began to relax, slowly sinking further and further down onto the bed, as he heard Emma's breathing become more shallow and even. Her sniffling more and more infrequent until it ceased altogether and he was fully lying down.

"Emma," Killian prompted softly as he came to the end of his tale. With a pang of guilt, it occurred to him that it had been a while since she had spoken.

"Mhmm?" She sighed into the phone.

"As much as I enjoy the sound of your voice," Killian said. "Perhaps you should try and get some sleep, love. I daresay you'll want to be rested tomorrow."

"Okay," Emma said after a moment. More than a little reluctance in her voice. "Killian?"

"Aye, love?" He shifted on the bed slightly. The phone was hot against his cheek from its extended use.

"Thank-you," Emma said softly. "I'm, I'm not used to having people, to needing someone…"

"There's no need to thank me," Killian said. "And Emma, I can assure you that you most definitely have me. For anything. Always."

"I know," Emma replied, quickly. The last remaining bit of tension drained from Killian's body when he heard the utter confidence in her tone. He smiled when he considered that perhaps he was finally getting through to her. "Goodnight, Killian."

"Goodnight, Swan," Killian replied, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavier than they had in weeks. The screen went dark and he closed the device, reverently cradling it in his palm for a moment before he placed it on the shelf beside his hook. He fell asleep with a broad smile on his face, and for the first time in a long time, he remained asleep long after the sun rose.


	8. The Dread Pirate Jones

Killian had taken to Netflix as he had with almost everything in the realm without magic; hesitantly at first and then with an unexpected vehemence. He was one of the few inhabitants of Storybrooke with only one set of memories, _memories which did not include details on the ins and outs of the realm and its modern technology. _As such, he sought out anything which could make him more familiar with the world he now called home. While his research into this realm's customs often found him watching the strange moving pictures alone, he much preferred it when Emma joined him. Even though, _perhaps especially because,_ they rarely made it through an entire film before they became engaged in_ much more pleasurable activities. _

He breathed a sigh of contentment as he settled onto the Charming's couch, vaguely wondering which film they would half watch this evening. He had a sneaking suspicion it would not be much of anything, as he and Emma had quite unexpectedly found that they had the loft to themselves. However, as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, fiddling with the Netflix, he realized she seemed to have something else besides pillaging and plundering in mind. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, her lips tightly pursed, as she scrolled through the selection. She seemed restless, fidgeting beside him on the couch. He recognized her look immediately, _she had always been an open book to him_. This mood of deep concentration and pensiveness almost always accompanied her whenever she shared a piece of her past with him.

"What shall it be this evening, Swan?" He asked, as he casually draped his arm around her shoulders. He toyed with the ends of her hair, hoping to alleviate whatever tension clung to her bones.

"I was thinking The Princess Bride," Emma said with a small smile, as the rapid movement on the screen finally came to a rest. She always felt nervous recommending anything — _movies, tv shows, books, food —_ to _anyone. _The feeling of lingering apprehension only intensified as she considered sharing _this movie. _While she knew it was slightly ridiculous, it meant a great deal to her and she desperately wanted him to like it as much as she did.

"Is this one of those chicken flicks your lad warned me of?" He asked jovially, hoping to lighten the tension that had settled over the room.

"_Chick_," Emma corrected, opting not to mention that she knew for a fact that _chicken flicks_ were one of his favourite genres. She suspected he had a soft spot for the leads who managed to woo their woman. "And it's got a bit of everything. It's always been one of my favourites actually…"

"Then I have no doubt I will enjoy it immensely," Killian replied easily before he tucked her more securely against his side.

Emma sighed and curled up against him, her feet tucked neatly under her. She fiddled with the charms on his necklace, the remnants of her nervous energy demanding an outlet. Despite her markedly different circumstances, she couldn't help but feel a vague sense of nostalgia as the movie played. Her mind drifted back to all the times she'd watched this movie, her eyes red rimmed and her cheeks wet with tears after something had gone wrong with yet another foster family. _Because she hadn't been good enough_. In those moments of weakness she'd always wished for her own Westley to find her. For someone with eyes full of promise and sweet _as you wishes_, to hold her and never let her go. But he'd never come, so she had grown up and realized that the only one who could save her was herself.

She snuck a furtive glance up at Killian, and had to bite her lip to hold back a smile when she saw the deep look of concentration painted on his face. It warmed her heart to see how deeply enthralled in the film he had already become; his interest decidedly piqued at the mention of pirates. His rapt attention soon gave way to booming laughs. At first Emma felt that he was just throughly enjoying the movie. It was only after a couple cryptic comments about the _sheer ridiculousness _of the plot that she felt a prickle of irritation trickle down her spine. As the movie continued she began to suspect that he was laughing _at _the movie instead of _with it_. Each note of his laughter grating further and further at her paper thin patience.

"Really?" Emma huffed, after one ill timed chuckle too many. She extracted herself from his arms, feeling only a little surprised with just how irritated Killian's reaction to the movie had made her. "If you're just going to make fun of it we don't have to keep watching," She reached for the remote, but Killian stilled her hand with his own.

"I'm not mocking the film," He replied quickly, his eyes still bright with his fresh laughter. "It's magnificent, Swan, truly. The magic of this realm just never ceases to amaze me."

"I told you, it's not magic, Killian," Emma said with a roll of her eyes. She slumped back onto the arm of the couch, trying to put as much space between herself and Killian as possible, and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. She knew her reaction to Killian's less than favourable review of the movie was slightly over the top. _It wasn't as if he had to like _**_everything_**_ she did. _But the whole situation had left her feathers ruffled and she couldn't bring herself to shake her annoyance. "It's technology and special effects and—"

"Aye, I've gathered that," He interrupted, the corner of his mouth quirking. "But the magic I was referring is the rather miraculous translation of the real lives of those in other worlds into mere stories for the people of this realm."

"And who's story is this?" Emma said, gesturing towards the TV, the movie still unfolding on the screen.

"Oh Emma, don't you see?" Killian said, as he tentatively inched closer to her on the couch. "It's ours," He continued with a soft smile. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"You, you think this is about us?" Emma asked incredulously, her eyes wide. "That we're Westley and Buttercup?"

"Well, at the very least they're based on us. There does always seem to be some discrepancies between reality and the stories of this realm," Killian replied. He gave a small shudder as he recalled the egregious tales of the demon child Peter Pan. _Waxed moustaches and perms indeed. _"Do you not?" He asked, raising his brow as he took in Emma's awestruck expression.

"There's bound to be similarities in _anything_ if you look hard enough—"

"A dashing pirate captain somehow manages to capture the fancy of a beautiful princess? Does that not sounds familiar to you, love?"

"That sounds like a lot of stories—"

"Bloody hell, there is even a giant, Swan," Killian said with a broad grin as Fezzik appeared on the screen to underscore his point.

"Well, I mean—"

"Do you not think me as dashing as Westley?" He asked, his eyes twinkling and a hint of mirth in his voice. "I could grow a ponytail if you desire, Swan—"

"Oh my god, Killian, stop," Emma said with a laugh. She gently lobbed a pillow toward his head, which he easily brushed aside. His eyes crinkled from the weight of his smile, notably elated at the sound of Emma's laugh.

"As you wish," He said, slowly crawling towards her, until his body covered her own, pinning her between himself and the couch. Their skin just a hairsbreadth from touching. "Though the Dread Pirate Jones does have a nice ring to it…"

"You _seriously_ think this movie is about us?" Emma asked, dumbfounded.

"Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles," He said, _ever the quick study_, effortlessly rhyming off one of Peter Falk's iconic lines. "I'd say that's more than a passing similarity wouldn't you, Swan?"

"You think," Emma said, swallowing thickly to clear the lump that had settled in her throat. "You think our love is _true_?"

The tips of Killian's ears reddened and he scratched the back of his neck, resting his weight on his brace. He suddenly looked more like a befuddled deckhand than the suave pirate Captain Emma had become accustomed to. Emma's eyes darted between his own and felt a surprising pang of hurt in her chest at the doubt she saw shining back at her. His silence on the topic speaking volumes. Overwhelmed, she dropped her eyes and shifted beneath him, suddenly feeling unbelievably foolish. _True Love happened in stories, not to people like her._

"What makes you think we're not, that we don't have," Emma said, her voice faltering. "Is it because I'm, I mean I can be difficult—"

"Bloody hell, Emma," Killian interrupted, gently cupping her face with his hand and tilting her head until she met his eye. The intensity in his gaze pulled the air from her lungs in a small gasp. "It has nothing to do with you, I assure you."

"Then what?" Emma asked, her tone was laced with a deep desperation that made her voice sound foreign to her ears. She cleared her throat and jut her chin out defiantly, trying to regain some control. A feat not made particularly easy lying on her back, pinned beneath a leather clad pirate.

"Well, I attempted True Love's Kiss, Swan, back when you and Henry were in New York," He replied, his voice tight at the memory of his failure.

"True Love's Kiss doesn't work if you're don't remember your true love, Killian," Emma replied quietly, a small smile on her face and an almost embarrassing amount of hope surging deep within her chest. "Have you even looked at Henry's storybook?"

"Is that so?" Killian asked, his eyes suddenly bright and an impossibly wide smile donning his face. He couldn't help but think that this news was very auspicious indeed.

"Yeah," Emma said quietly, resting her hands on his waist. "I guess there's no way to know for sure until another curse comes along."

"What I do know," Killian said, playfully bumping his nose against hers. "Is that I have never doubted how I feel for you. And that what we have cannot be stopped by curses, or by death, or by darkness. And I love you, Emma Swan, as I have never loved another. And if that isn't True Love, I don't know what is."

"I love you too, Killian," Emma said without hesitation.

Killian's smile grew to an almost comical size, before he closed the distance between them and kissed her softly, his hand tangled in her hair. Emma arched into the kiss, relishing the taste of his smile and the feel of every inch of his body pressed tightly against hers. And in that moment, there was no lingering doubt or insecurities, no curses, or saviours, or darkness. There was only Killian and Emma.

"You're going to miss the end," Emma admonished with a nod towards the television when they finally broke apart, both more than a little breathless.

"I already know how it ends," Killian replied, his lips brushing against her jaw. The tickle of his scruff against her delicate skin pulling a low moan from her lips.

"Oh? And how's that?" She asked, rocking her hips against his, feeling satisfied that this time it was her who drew a deep groan from Killian.

"Because I know how our story ends," He said, leaning back to meet her gaze squarely before he continued. "The princess and the pirate succeed in spite of every obstacle and live happily ever after."

Speechless, Emma grabbed the lapels of his jacket and roughly pulled his mouth back to hers. She heard the promise in his words and could taste it in his kiss. As her hands threaded through his dark locks, pulling him closer, there was an unfamiliar, _but welcome_, lightness in her chest. And as Wesley and Buttercup rode off into the night astride their white horses on the TV screen long forgotten, Emma couldn't help but feel like perhaps she had found her Westley, _her True Love_, her happy ending, after all.


End file.
